


Feel the Rain

by Crimson1



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry in Len's parka, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck out in the woods in a thunderstorm without use of his powers, Barry complains while Len enjoys the downpour, and eventually distracts Barry in all the best ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt I realized I never shared here. Enjoy!

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” Barry shivered in his suit, blinking past the water dripping into his eyes from his cowl.

“You’re the one who decided to use his last burst of speed to bring us as far from civilization as possible.” Snart had his head tossed back, neck arched, rain splattering off of his parka and the goggles he’d kept over his eyes, which had to make it easier to stand the downpour, but still didn’t explain how the man enjoyed getting wet. Though Barry supposed getting a common cold wasn’t something Captain Cold worried about.

Snart looked good surrendered like that though, not even keeping an eye on Barry, knowing these days that he didn’t need to watch his back around the speedster. He didn’t have longer hair to fall into his eyes like Barry did. He seemed to revel in getting drenched, his cold gun safely tucked away in its holster.

Barry shuddered back against the tree he'd taken refuge beneath. These were the same woods he'd brought Snart to all those months ago when they'd first looked at each other face to face. They were still at odds, still enemies, nemeses, but under the right circumstances he expected a stream of cold to come to his aid more often than freeze him. Tonight had been one of those nights.

“I just need some time to recover and I can bring us back," Barry said, sniffled, shook as his teeth chattered. The new meta of the week drained others of their powers when they were in close proximity. Barry was lucky he'd had enough speed left to bring them to safety, though he hadn't had much control in that final burst.

He also hated the rain. A lot.

"Or the others will track us here from the suit. Or your gun.”

“And why would they be able to track my gun?” Snart finally turned to him, one eyebrow raised above his goggles.

Oops. Barry averted his eyes and huddled further in on himself, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. The tree offered little protection from the downpour. 

A humored sigh, accompanied by sloshing over the muddy ground alerted Barry that Snart was moving toward him. He looked up to see that common smirk in place. “Are you pouting, Barry? Can’t handle the chill?”

“Urg, don’t even start with me right now,” Barry groaned. “Your puns are not funny.”

Snart’s smirk twisted around his mouth, fighting to keep from dropping. “You know, you’re a bit of a brat when you’re sulking.”

“I don’t like being wet, okay? The suit feels like a second layer of skin.”

Even with the darkness of the rainy night, Barry could just make out the shape of Snart’s eyes through his goggles. He saw clearly the way they glanced down and then slowly, slowly up his body. “Looks that way too. Course from my angle, it always does, wet or not.”

Barry laughed nervously, hugged himself tighter. Snart had to be teasing, not honestly flirting with him. Right?

He looked away again, trying to hide his blush—which damn it, was so not creeping up the back of his neck right now—only to be startled moments later by Snart tugging him from the tree. “Hey, what’s the big—”

“Cool it, Scarlet,” Snart said, and proceeded to drape his parka around Barry’s shoulders, push back his cowl, and replace it with the fur-lined hood, which did a remarkably better job of keeping the rain out of Barry’s face. The parka was also surprisingly warm, and cozy, and dry on the inside.

“How—”

“Insulated. Specially. You’re welcome.”

“Hn.” Barry shifted back to lean against the tree again, nestled in Snart’s parka, the hood up, his now bare cheeks with the cowl drawn back brushing against the edges of soft fur. It was wet a little there, but not too bad. And the parka was so warm from Snart’s body heat.

“What about you?” Barry asked, eyeing Snart from under the hood, who now stood in only his black sweater and pants, getting further drenched. “We could…”

“What? Share?” Snart grinned at him.

“I just mean…you could get under the tree with me. Unless you want to be sneezing and getting all your Rogues sick tomorrow.”

Snart laughed as if the very thought of him being under the weather was impossible. “Don’t mind if I do.” He settled in next to Barry. The trunk of the tree was large enough for them to stand shoulder to shoulder comfortably.

The rain started to taper off, but still fell liberally enough, no true end to the storm in sight. Barry didn’t mean to lean into Snart, but he felt so much better with the parka’s warmth encasing him. It smelled like Snart—a wintery mix of spices and evergreen. 

Snart’s hand appeared in the opening of the hood and Barry flinched.

“Calm down. Warming up yet?” He pressed a warm palm to Barry’s cheek and—wow, when had he removed his gloves, and how was his hand that warm despite the storm?

Barry shivered. “Yeah…”

Snart’s thumb brushed his cheekbone, his body heat radiating from them being so close, more so than what the parka provided. His eyes looked dark, almost navy, but still blue beneath the goggles. “Glad I could be of service. But you owe me.”

“Hey, I saved your ass by whisking you out of there.”

“And that meta might have drained your powers faster if I hadn’t tripped her up with a cold blast.”

“What were you even doing in that neighborhood?”

“Grocery shopping.”

Barry chuckled and tilted his head at the sarcastic tone of voice. Why hadn’t Snart removed his hand yet, he wondered? “What do Rogues eat anyway?”

“Less than you, judging by your grocery bills.”

“Hey, how do you—”

Snart pushed his hand further into the hood, grasping Barry’s neck. “Maybe you don’t owe me. I owed you...for before. For Lisa.” 

Barry tried not to gasp at Leonard Snart’s version of ‘thank you’.

“I delivered. We were even. Then you brought me here. I gave you the parka. So we could stay even. Or…”

“Or…?” When had Barry’s voice dropped to a whisper?

Snart leaned closer, holding Barry’s neck, breath brushing his lips and moving the fur of the hood with little puffs. His eyes looked hooded, pupils blown. “Quid pro quo, kid. Back and forth til one of us breaks.” He paused, waited for Barry to push him away, or pull away, or respond with something other than baited breath and anticipation.

When Barry didn’t move, Snart pressed warm lips to his quivering mouth and all thoughts of the storm disappeared.

THE END


End file.
